66: Touch
by cali-chan
Summary: Will reveals something very personal to him and Nico realizes they have more in common than he initially thought. Will/Nico, post-BoO/pre-ToA.


**Touch** **.** PG, Will/Nico, post-BoO/pre-ToA.  
 _Will reveals something very personal to him and Nico realizes they have more in common than he initially thought._

I have no idea where this came from.

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"Hmmm. Your heart rate's a little high, but other than that it seems you're doing much better," Will said as he cradled Nico's face in his hands.

Nico knew exactly why his heart was beating faster than usual, and it had nothing to do with his multiple health problems. No, it was all about those stupid skeletal butterflies that seemed to start fluttering in his stomach whenever Will Solace was around.

You'd think that after three days of being stuck in the infirmary, Nico would be a bit more used to Will's touch by now — after all, the blond insisted that touching his patients was the best way to measure their progress. But Nico still grew uncomfortable every time the medic resorted to physical contact in order to diagnose him, and he was starting to realize that it was a different sort of "uncomfortable" than his usual I-don't-like-being-touched policy. Because he liked Will's touch. Liked it a lot, actually.

He hoped he wasn't blushing. Will's eyes were closed so it's not like he would notice anyway, but still.

The medic stayed in the same position for a little while, quietly gauging Nico's health status while Nico tried his best to look down at his knees to avoid embarrassing himself further. After a few seconds, Will finally opened his eyes and regarded Nico with a smile. "Much better!" he repeated, brightly. "See, I told you some time in the infirmary would do you good."

Nico would've replied with some dry quip about being forced into bed rest, but Will continued speaking without a pause. "I'm just going to re-bandage your arm and you should be good to go back to your cabin today. You'll still have to come back so I can check how those werewolf scratches are doing, but the ambrosia should help them along nicely." He stepped away from Nico's cot as he spoke, rummaging through a few nearby drawers in search of gauze and medical tape.

Something Will had said before gave Nico pause, though; about the infirmary doing him good. Did he mean that emotionally as well as physically? He definitely was a lot more relaxed now than he was when Will dragged him into the infirmary, although he would never admit it out loud. Could Will tell? He had been doing his magic diagnosing thing since day one, and Nico was admittedly curious as to how much Will could tell about him just by touch. Now that he was close to being released, maybe it was the right time to ask. "How does it work?"

"Hmm?" Will mumbled absentmindedly as he reached toward a shelf above his head for the rubbing alcohol.

"Your powers. Like, when you touch people. Can you see their heart rate and their blood pressure and stuff, or...?"

Will finally turned back to look at him, his eyes a little wide, like he was surprised Nico had taken the initiative to ask. "Oh. No, it's not really like that. It's not like a bunch of numbers suddenly flood into my brain — and thank goodness for that, or else I would've gone insane when I was a kid."

That made Nico frown. "Did you get your powers when you were really young?"

Nico didn't remember enough of his pre-Lotus childhood to be able to tell if any of his child-of-Hades abilities had manifested early, and he hadn't been at Westover Hall long enough for anything strange to happen. He'd always known in the back of his mind that people tended to be wary of him (most animals, too), but he hadn't really associated it with his parentage until after Bianca's death. He'd only been 10 at that point — almost 11 — and he'd figured until now that that was around the time every demigod's powers manifested.

Will leaned back against the cabinet he'd just been rummaging through, looking every bit the picture of relaxation. "Yeah. I must've been around six or seven. I was in the park with my mom, back in Austin, and I noticed a little bird sitting on the ground." He smiled a little. "A chickadee. Cute little thing. They're everywhere back home, but they usually scurry away when people come close."

He crossed his arms, his gaze growing wistful, as if he was re-watching the scene in his mind. "Only this one wasn't flying away. It was just sitting there, looking around but not moving. So I approached it carefully — I even tried my best _Lion King_ 'stalk and pounce' moves," he added with a chuckle, unaware that Nico had no clue what _The Lion King_ was.

"And I picked it up in my hands... and I felt it."

His smile had disappeared, and Nico didn't know why but he felt dread creep up on him. He had an idea of what it was Will had felt. "It was hurt?"

Will nodded, mirth now completely gone. "I don't know how it happened; I doubt it was attacked by a predator, because it didn't show any outward signs of being wounded. Maybe it had just flown into some window somewhere, who knows. All I knew is that I could tell it was bleeding internally..."

Nico's throat had gone dry. Dealing with the reality of death had been bad enough at ten; he couldn't imagine a six-year-old trying to process such a thing. Will's story wasn't over, though. "I started crying," he continued, biting a little at his lower lip. "My mom freaked out, but I wouldn't let go of the bird. I begged her to ask my father to heal it; she'd explained to me who he was, what he could do, but she didn't know how to contact him anymore than I did."

Nico was entranced by the way Will kept biting his bottom lip. He wondered if that was wrong of him. "I was hysterical," Will continued. "My powers can tell me what's wrong, but they don't tell me how to fix it or even _if_ it can be fixed. I didn't learn that until later."

He looked down at the ground for a moment, pensive. Nico just stared at him, not knowing what to say. Was there anything to say? Will's powers had been as much of a rude awakening as Nico's, it seemed, but it had been a long time ago. There wasn't anything he could do to make the memory better... and yet Nico itched to try, to say something comforting.

After a few seconds of silence, Will shook his head, as if clearing it of those sad thoughts. "Anyway, it's not like I can see the numbers in my head. It's more like a feeling, you know? I can just tell when something is off. It's all very abstract; I don't expect people to understand." But Nico did. When he thought of a person, if they were dead, he was able to know exactly where in the Underworld they were. It's how he'd known Bianca was dead even before Percy told him; he could feel that she was being judged. It's not like he could see her in his mind, it was more like he just knew. Perhaps Will's powers were something similar.

"It's not as overwhelming," Will continued. "Most people are generally healthy, so I don't have to be worried about being flooded with health information every time I touch someone.

"In fact, it can be quite comforting sometimes," he added with a shrug. "Sometimes I touch people I care about just to reassure myself they're okay. After the bird incident, I would touch my mother as often as I could. Hold onto her arms, reach out for a hug, hold her hand." He paused for a moment, taking one of his hands up to his face to rub against his forehead, like his head hurt. "That's how I knew."

Once again, Nico was filled with dread. "Your mother...?"

Will nodded, again. "Ovarian cancer. Too late for treatment or surgery to be effective; it had already metastasized. The doctors kept telling me she was okay, like I was any other clueless seven-year-old, but..." He chuckled again. This time there was no humor in it. "I knew better. She was gone less than two years after her diagnosis."

Nico tried to say something, anything, over the knot he now had in his throat, but all that would come out was, "Will..." The son of Apollo was always so cool and collected (except when it came to his patients' health or Nico attempting to leave camp), that Nico kind of thought nothing could shake him. He was usually so relaxed and friendly, anyone would expect him to have led a charmed life. Learning all of this certainly changed his perception of the medic.

Moreover, it changed his perception of life in general. For a long time, Nico had felt he had it harder than everyone else; that somehow life had dealt him more misery than any random demigod at camp. And maybe that was true; he wasn't about to make a chart or anything. But he was definitely not the only person here who had suffered. Will had lost people, too.

Nico's mother died in an instant. Bianca, too. He couldn't imagine what it was like for Will, to watch someone so important to you whither away slowly, recognize the pain and suffering they must be going through, and know that there's nothing you can do about it. And yet here Will was, stable and friendly and happy.

Nico wanted to tell him that he understood, that he knew what it was to lose someone you loved, someone who was a part of you. He wanted to say so many things, but he couldn't. It wasn't easy for him to open up to people, and he'd only known Will for a very short time. But maybe someday. Now that he knew what Will had been through, that he might understand... maybe someday.

"Anyway," Will shook himself again. "That's enough of my sob story for one day. We were talking about you, Wednesday Addams," he said, an amused smile coming back to his face like it had never left. It looked better on him than a frown, anyway.

Nico didn't know what "Wednesday Addams" meant (was it a person?) but he knew when he was being teased. "You mean _you_ were talking about me, Solace. I don't recall having any input," he retorted drily, which only made Will laugh harder.

"Pull up your sleeve, will you?" Will signaled at his arm, where the werewolf scratches were. "I need to get some more tape, but I'll be back in a sec."

Before the blond could walk away, though, Nico found himself calling out. "Wait, Will," he started, stretching out his hand to grab onto Will's wrist. It wasn't a conscious decision on his part; he'd moved without meaning to.

Will turned to him, sky blue eyes flashing toward Nico's face like a beacon, and for a moment Nico panicked. He didn't even know what to say; he hadn't actually wanted to say anything! And now Will was looking at him expectantly, his gaze switching from his face to Nico's hand on his wrist. It was the first time Nico had voluntarily touched Will, and it seemed like they were both acutely aware of it. "I, uh," he attempted, but was still floundering. "I just..."

Will was waiting patiently for him the words out, and Nico thought that's what probably gave Nico's words the final push. He looked down so that his bangs covered his face — he was certain he was blushing _now_ — and spoke. "Thank you," he blurted out, before continuing in a mutter. "You know, for healing me and... stuff."

The blond didn't say anything straight away, but Nico's head snapped up when he felt Will move his hand within his hold, so that instead of Nico holding Will's wrist, their hands were palm to palm. Anyone looking in would say they were holding hands; luckily, there was no one else in the infirmary to look in on them.

Will was looking down at him with a soft smile. His thumb rubbed Nico's hand ever so slightly; he couldn't say if it was on purpose or if it was just a tic, but remembering what Will had said about touching the people he cared about, the skeletal butterflies came back in full force.

A laugh bubbled out of Will, like he'd just thought of something hilarious. "Don't thank me yet," he warned as he let go of Nico's hand, starting to walk backwards. "I still haven't discharged you!"

"You said three days!" Nico complained, but Will was already walking away to get that medical tape and his only response was more laughter.

The mention of his (hopefully) upcoming discharge reminded Nico of where their entire conversation had started. "So, you can't feel people's... emotional pain or something?" he called out. He could only see Will's back as he searched a cabinet on the opposite side of the room.

"Is that what you were worried about?" came Will's retort, echoing off the walls and the several rows of cots in-between them. With a triumphant "got it!" that was more for his own benefit than for Nico, he raised the brand-new roll of medical tape in his hand like it was a gold medal. "I can't feel people's emotions. Only physical and magical damage, I'm afraid," he confirmed as he walked back to the cot where Nico was sitting.

"But I like to think that I'm pretty good at recognizing people's feelings," he asserted as Nico rolled his sleeve up to his shoulder. And quite frankly, Nico couldn't disagree. In the last three days, he'd seen Will attend to patients' questions and complaints — including his own — before they could even formulate them. He had a knack for knowing when his patients were in pain, when they were bored, when they were angry (ac-hem, offspring of Mars), when they needed comfort, when they needed a distraction... "I get that one from my mother," he added, with a wink.

The corner of Nico's mouth started to twitch, but he covered it up with a snort. "You're a dork."

Will shook his head, but he was smiling. "A little life advice for you, Phantom Menace," he quipped. Nico thought he kind of got that one ("phantom" because of his connection with ghosts, and "menace" because of his attitude... right?), but before he could comment, the medic finished the thought: "Never insult the person who's holding a gauze dipped in antiseptic to your open wounds."

"My wounds have already closed— ow!"

"I warned you."

"You pinched me with the tweezers! Do you treat all your patients this way?"

"Only the stubborn ones."

The bickering went on for a while. If something as simple as bandaging a wound took longer than usual, neither commented on it. And if Will's touch lingered on Nico's arm for a little longer than strictly necessary, neither minded.


End file.
